


wonder where your heart came from

by gigi_originally



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Good Parent Han Solo, Han and Leia aren't perfect but they try, Someone (Not Rey!) Started Saving Ben Solo, there's a lot of Ben Solo feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigi_originally/pseuds/gigi_originally
Summary: Ben and Chewie were just trying to haul some Rathtars.a.k.a. an alternative version of the sequel trilogy that no one asked for, inspired entirely by too many Dad!Han and Uncle!Chewie feelings.





	1. flickers in my head

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from London Grammar's _Sights_.
> 
> Though not my first venture into fanfiction, this is definitely my first foray into the realm of _Star Wars_. Please be gentle with my hand.

At first, Chewbacca doesn't notice the twitching. It's when he's coming back from the kitchenette that his eye catches on Ben's shoulder jerking. The movement lurches most of Ben's upper body but the young man doesn't wake. Still, Chewie pauses in his progress because it's not been enough years since Ben stopped having nightmares.

The freighter they’ve rented for this job is bigger than their usual transports but Rathtars are better given a wide berth. Chewie wonders sometimes what Han is thinking when he takes some of these jobs. Although Han can’t take the blame for this one by himself. It was some connection of Ben’s that had gotten them the job from King Prana but both Solos had been eager to take it. Like father, like son indeed. And Ben was very much his father’s son—he even slept in the same ungraceful sprawl.

Chewie watches Ben’s twitching become steadily more violent as his sleeping face contorts. Ben’s long frame spills out of one of the open bunks in the closest rec area to the cockpit, which is empty now that the rest of their crew has been, er, _eradicated._ When his left leg starts to kick, Chewie braces for what is coming. The Wookiee has seen this enough over the past three decades to know that trying to wake him would be useless. That knowledge does nothing to ease Chewie’s concern.

Since Ben left Luke’s training, he’s mostly stopped having these kinds of nights. It’s only when he’s in that dark, uneasy headspace Chewie recognizes from watching Ben’s shoulders slump since puberty that things get like this. It hasn’t happened in years. It shouldn’t be happening now because Ben had been fine before the jump to lightspeed. Maybe it was the Rathtars? Creatures like that—mindless and murderous—had to be a dark imprint in the Force. Chewie himself feels a deep uneasiness around them that isn’t entirely because they can eat him. Ben should never have come on this trip.

Without warning, it happens:

Everything not bolted down in the room goes flying. The things that are bolted creak a little bit even so. The few pretty glass baubles that line one of the far shelves explode. Skywalkers and the Force, of course.

Ben’s eyes are suddenly wide open, his breathing ragged, and his dark hair is lank with sweat. Chewie watches him sit up and survey the damage to his surroundings with a grimace.

“ ** _It’s not too bad this time_** ,” Chewie intones in Shyriiwook. “ ** _Table’s still in place_**.”

Ben runs a hand over his face and looks up at Chewie with a remorseful half-smile. “Sorry, Chew. I wasn’t expecting anything tonight.”

Chewie shrugs the apology off. The nightmares aren’t Ben’s fault. Honestly, Chewie and Han are usually just happy that the kid can sleep. “ ** _Was it the Rathtars?_** ”

Ben shakes his head. He frowns deeply, his face serious like Leia all of sudden, then says, “It was something else. I dreamt I was in the _Falcon_ again, flying through a Star Destroyer. There was a… girl, I think?”

Chewie tilts his head in a vague ‘oh really’ kind of acknowledgement.

Ben blinks and his frown deepens, his voice going quieter, and Chewie hears an echo of a frightened boy left with his uncle because his father didn’t know how to help him. He whispers, “I was in a desert.”

Abruptly Ben’s face twists petulantly and Chewie can almost recite what follows. Ben complains, “I hate sand.”

* * *

BB-8 took a liking to Rey the minute she saved it. It’s a generally amiable droid so it’s a little surprising, even to the droid, that it doesn’t like the man wearing Poe’s jacket. It doesn’t trust him at all because he says he’s in the Resistance, but BB doesn’t recognize his face from anywhere. Even so, the man—Finn, he calls himself—seems to earn Rey’s temporary trust by promising to get the droid back to the Resistance. BB-8 goes along with it until the trio of unlikely companions find themselves hiding under the floor of a ship that rightfully should be classified as junk.

When the grating over their heads is hauled upward, BB-8 immediately recognizes the Wookiee roaring down at them. Finn and Rey panic, of course, because Chewbacca is a terrifying, giant, hairy thing that is almost as tall as the ceiling. BB-8 doesn’t exactly know the Wookiee but it’s hard to miss him the few times he’s made an appearance at the Resistance bases over the years.

Then the human appears and BB-8 definitely knows _him_. It’s about to chirp out a happy greeting when it notices Rey inhale sharply.

Swiveling its head around to see what’s wrong, BB finds Rey blinking up at the new human presence, wide-eyed and confused. The emotion on her face is difficult for the little droid to process as every rapid twitch of her features flickers a new expression in and out of life. Beside her, the jacket thief seems to have noticed Rey’s odd reaction too and bristles in what BB-8 has catalogued as jealousy.

Rey scrambles out of their hiding place first and BB-8 watches from where it’s being propelled by Finn into Chewbacca’s legs as she talks to Ben Solo. Because Poe is who Poe is, BB-8 has spent years analyzing the behavior of humans both male and female specifically to determine their attraction to their conversational partner. The interaction between General Organa’s son and BB’s scrappy desert savior is subtle but the angle at which the tall man leans over to question the scavenger is one degree too far to be entirely disinterested.

But maybe that’s just the height difference. Ben is a considered a very tall human, BB understands from listening to some people at the base talk. They’ve used words like _broad_ and _solid_ and _distracting_. There are others though who don’t quite use specific words but still manage to communicate that Ben is utterly intimidating at times and, to some, terrifying. By comparison, Rey is a very small human.

“You’re the pilot,” Ben murmurs and it’s not quite a question.

“I’m the pilot,” Rey admits in the face of a blaster casually waved in her general direction and the full intensity of the Skywalker stare on her face. It earns her a dismissive scoff although the jacket thief finding his feet beside BB-8 seems to fret at the comprehensive once-over she gets to accompany it.

From his spot above the replaced grate Chewbacca moans a question Rey jumps to answer. It surprises both BB-8 and Finn that she understands Shyriiwook and Finn’s outburst of disbelief is interrupted by Ben’s offence on the Wookiee’s behalf.

Ben twirls his blaster in a lazy circle before training it on Finn in a gesture that results in the same kind of anxiety as though Ben had marched forward and pressed it to the other man’s temple. “That _thing_ can understand you perfectly. Watch it, lurdo.”

Both Finn’s nodding and his confused mouthing of ‘ _lurdo_ ’ goes unheeded. Ben turns his attention to Rey once more, eyes narrowed. He asks, “Where’d you get this ship?”

“Niima outpost.”

A roll of his eyes and Ben glances beyond Rey to Chewbacca with a smug smirk. His tone is full gloating when he says, “Remind him that I’d said to double check to Western Reaches. Make sure he knows it was in a _junkyard_.”

Chewbacca shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“Who had it?” Ben’s line of questioning abruptly continues, “Ducain?”

“I stole it from Unkar Plutt. He stole it from the Irving Boys, who stole it from Ducain.” BB-8 registers that Rey is speaking very quickly.

Ben exhales a creative expletive then says sharply, “It doesn’t matter. Tell whoever that the Solos have taken back the Millennium Falcon. For whatever it’s worth.”

And all of a sudden Rey brightens. She rushes to follow Ben as he moves deeper into the ship. “ _This_ is the Millennium Falcon? _Han Solo’s_ Millennium Falcon?”

Even BB-8 can recognize the sardonic twist as Ben responds out of sight, “The one and only.”

Suddenly Finn interjects, “Han Solo? The Rebellion general? Isn’t he supposed to be a lot older?”

Pausing mid-step, Rey looks back at him incredulously. “No, Han Solo: the smuggler. But yeah, probably.”

“Wasn’t he a war hero?” Finn asks, and all three escapees turn to regard the Wookiee in their midst. Chewie makes a noise that equates to something along the lines of ‘erm…’.

Still, Rey’s excitement can’t seem to be contained as she calls out, “This is the ship that made the Kessell Run in fourteen parsecs?!”

“Twelve!” comes the immediate correction from the cockpit followed by another vehement expletive in Huttese and: “Why is there a kriffing compressor on the ignition line?”

BB-8 rolls along and fits right outside the cockpit, watching Rey watch Ben examine the ship. She says, “I told Unkar not to do it. It—”

“—puts too much stress on the hyperdrive,” they finish simultaneously.

For a moment, everything goes quiet as they blink at each other. Finn almost trips over BB in his rush to join them.

“Alright,” Finn begins bravely, shoulders squared for a confrontation with the taller man, “who are you? You’re too young to be Han Solo.”

Ben turns around and leans a hip against the captain’s chair; his mouth tilts cruelly. “Aren’t you a sharp son-of-a-bantha?”

Rey’s calf collides with BB as she takes half a step backward. Ben’s brows furrow at the motion and he ducks his head to look away through the transparisteel at the hanger surrounding them.

“I’m Ben Solo,” he offers flatly. He jerks his chin toward the Wookiee behind them all adding, “That’s Chewbacca.”

He takes a moment to swallow and his next admission is reluctant but sounds as much like an admission of guilt as Rey’s quick, clean confession minutes prior.

“Han Solo is my father.”

* * *

  
Things start to click together in Finn’s head as he and Rey take time to process their captor’s identity.

“Wait. If you’re Han Solo’s son…,” Finn starts slowly but as more history holos come rushing back, his confidence grows, “Han Solo married Princess Leia Organa. General Leia Organa is the leader of the _entire_ living Resistance!”

He meets Rey’s eyes with a growing sense of dread in his stomach. Conversely, she immediately brightens as things snap into place for her. At their feet, BB-8 chirps loudly. They turn as a trio in sync to utter a discordant chorus of, “Oh damn,” and “We need your help!” and a series of happy beeps.

It should be insulting that Ben Solo’s eyes go straight to the droid on the floor. Finn is instead just a little relieved that Solo’s attention isn’t pivoting back to Rey or stopping on him because his cover is effectively blown.

“BB-8?” Solo asks like he’s just now noticing the little droid. “Where’s Dameron?”

The mention of that name is a dagger in Finn’s heart. He hadn’t meant to cost a man his life; he’d honestly hoped to save him. Finn opens his mouth to say all of this but what comes out is, “He’s dead.”

BB-8 makes a miserable sound and that’s when Solo’s head jerks in his direction. It quickly becomes obvious that this is the first time Solo is really looking at him because the taller man’s jaw goes tight as he finally registers the jacket Finn is wearing. Solo’s voice, when he speaks, is low and calm and the most dangerous thing Finn has ever heard despite growing up in the First Order.

“Who are you and why are you wearing his jacket?”

It’s Rey who answers for him, half-stepping in front of him like he needs protecting from Solo’s suspicion.

“Finn is with the Resistance and we need your help,” she states firmly. Solo opens his mouth—to refute her claim most likely—but she barrels on. “This droid needs to get to the Resistance base as soon as possible.”

As Han Solo’s son, Ben must know the importance of what Finn reveals next: “He’s carrying a map to Luke Skywalker.”

Solo’s head spins toward Finn so quickly it’s amazing it hasn’t dislodged from his neck. The look on his face is so dark that any further comments Finn thought to make die behind his teeth. Luke Skywalker is Leia Organa’s twin brother, the two children of Darth Vader himself, so why does this nephew look like he’s been struck with the lightning at the sound his uncle’s name? The tension is thick and uncomfortable as Ben Solo turns away from them, shoulders tense and chest heaving.

Finally, the Wookiee articulates something in a low, concerned tone. It annoys Finn to no end that he’s the only one in the room who can’t understand what’s being said. Eventually, Solo turns around although nothing indicates that he has relaxed one bit.

“Throw them in a pod, Chew,” Solo’s tone is clipped. “We’ll drop them off at the next inhabited planet.”

BB-8 chirps up immediately, beeping frantically at Solo’s heels as he walks off the ship and into the hangar of his own craft. They all follow Solo as he leads them wherever he’s headed. Probably toward the escape pods since his hairy friend wielding the huge, deadly bowcaster brings up the rear without protest or alternative direction.

Whatever BB-8 is saying seems to sit well with Rey as she nods along, and Finn has no choice but to trust in that. Finn looks around as they march forward; takes stock of the ship they’re on and tries to spot an escape route. It’s a freighter; obviously a much larger one than they’d stolen, but Finn isn’t so versed in ships that he can tell what model it is.

Up ahead, Solo finally responds to the droid with an irritated, “Alright, I’ll get _you_ on a ship home. We’re still tossing _them_.”

Rey seems about to protest when there’s a thunk somewhere in the bowels of the ship. His next words take the dread from the pit of Finn’s stomach and vomit it all over everything: “Don’t tell me a Rathtar’s loose.”

What follows is an experience Finn never wants to think about again. Ever. No part of it. Especially not the part where he _almost gets eaten by a Rathtar_. Nope, never thinking about it again.

Their escape is the messiest mess Finn has ever been a part of: avoiding criminal blaster fire while blasting out of the hangar and _through_ a Rathtar at lightspeed. Finn’s barely managing to hold onto his internal organs and they still aren’t in the clear. The ship is wailing complaints at them and Finn has his hands full as the giant hairball tries to kill him for offering medical assistance. Through it all, he can hear the commotion in the cockpit clearly from where he’s basically being mauled for attempting to apply a bacta patch. Do these even work if applied over fur?

“The coolant's leaking!” Solo snaps.

Rey volunteers, “Try transferring auxiliary power to the—”

“—secondary tank, I got it!”

The incessant blaring of various alarms reduces just slightly. Then Solo hisses with all the indignity of a First Order officer ordered to interact with Stormtroopers, “If this hyperdrive blows there's gonna be pieces of us in three different systems!”

Finn glances back to see Rey on her knees beside the console, head angled and one arm completely lost underneath. Solo pauses, hand over a switch, to look at Rey as she presses one cheek flat against the metal and Finn can’t tell if they’re making eye contact or not. Then, suddenly, everything goes silent.

“What’d you do?”

Finishing up with Chewie’s bacta patch, Finn doesn’t look back at them, but he can hear the smile in Rey’s voice as she replies, “I bypassed the compressor.”

He turns around to see Rey beaming at Solo from the copilot’s seat. Her expression falters; brows drawing together in confusion at whatever look she’s receiving in return. Finn can’t see Solo’s face from this angle, but he sees his head turn away first, attention diverted to the controls in front of him. Neither exchange any words and Finn feels that little spark of jealousy flicker to life again.

Finn doesn’t need a translator to understand Chewie’s little huff of air behind him. It spurs him into action. He marches forward and inserts himself in the space between the seats. Solo glances up and him and prompts wryly, “So _you’re_ with the Resistance?”

Although quieter, Rey still beats him to the answering. “Finn’s a big deal.” She quotes him verbatim and he winces at the lie.

It's obvious Solo knows it’s a lie. For whatever reason, he doesn’t pursue it.

“And you?” His voice is softer, the wiry edge erased leaving only curiosity. Finn feels somehow shut out of the conversation again.

“I’m just a scavenger.” It’s a very matter-of-fact statement but for the first time since he’s met her there’s a hint of something else in Rey’s tone, something that sounds like she’s curling in on herself, something almost self-conscious. Finn doesn’t like the way it makes her seem small.

“Luke Skywalker was just a farm boy.”

Nothing else follows and Finn looks back and forth between Solo’s staunchly impassive face and Rey’s continued confusion before venturing, “What happened to him? To Skywalker?”

Whatever cloud had descended on Solo the last time they mentioned Skywalker returns but he seems prepared for it. His reply is terse: “He left.”

“Where did he go?” the question pops out before Finn can stop it.

“No one knows. His Jedi temple burned down, and he disappeared.” There’s a bitterness in the words that can’t be missed--except if you’re Rey.

“The Jedi? The Jedi were real?”

“ _Were_ ,” Solo stresses.

Rey leans back into her seat and stares out at the stars rushing by in a blur of blue. Her voice is far away, probably back on Jakku. “I thought they were all made up stories. The Force, the Jedi, the dark side and the light.”

Solo stands suddenly and glares at both of them. “I’m gonna check on Chew. Don’t touch anything. We’re gonna see a crazy old lady and get BB-8 on a clean ship.”

As he walks past, Finn swears he hears him mutter, “Mom is gonna kill me if I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _lurdo_ \- a childish Ewokese insult, roughly equivalent to "dummy."


	2. a stare caught right

Han Solo doesn’t hear from his son often. He understands why; makes do with the regular comms and sporadic holos from Chewie instead and tries whenever the opportunity arises to make amends for all the times he wasn’t the father his son needed growing up. It’s not nearly enough but it’s what he can offer at this late stage. On the occasions when they speak, Leia tells him he’s spoiling Ben. He simply raises an eyebrow at that and she rolls her eyes.

Things have gotten better for them, a little bit, since he’d brought Ben back from Luke.

It’s still hard for him to think of it in terms of _saving_ Ben from Luke.

He knows what it was—knows what happened that night at Luke’s temple—but still can’t wrap his mind around it. He’s just infinitely glad—enough to accept even Leia’s quiet assertions that he’d somehow used the Force to feel Ben’s distress—that he’d been _there_ for once. Leia had most certainly known when it happened. Han had strangely felt off for days before making up his mind to visit.

Now, he remembers the frantic comm he’d gotten, Leia screaming at him to _'go to Ben, right now!’_ and her relieved surprise that he’d already been on his way. He’d dropped his ship out of lightspeed directly into Arda’s atmosphere. He and Chewie had found Ben stumbling out of the ruins of his hut, tears in his eyes and lightsaber dangling from one hand loose with shock. Han hasn’t been great to his family but he never again wants to see his wife or his son look like they did that night.

He pushes those thoughts out of his mind with a quick shake of his head and opens up the comm line. Ben’s familiar scowl greets him.

“Old man.”

“Don’t you _‘old man’_ me. Bala Tik wants your head and Prana’s not happy. If your mother hears about the bounty—”

“I’ve got the _Falcon_ ,” Ben interrupts, his smug satisfaction palpable even in grainy blue.

A brief, stunned silence before the questions immediately begin to pour out: “What? How? Where was it? Was it Ducain, that moofmilker?”

“Chew and I found it just off Jakku,” Ben supplies. “I told you to double check the scrap heaps.”

“Jakku? That junkyard?”

With a shrug, Ben leans back into whatever chair he’s sitting on, toes of his boots appearing at the edge of the holo projection, arms crossed behind his head in a careless pose Han recognizes from his own youth. _The little shit._

“Get your feet off my console,” Han scolds automatically. Ben’s only response is to recross his ankles so that more of his sole is in Han’s face. He gives his foot a little shake for emphasis.

“Technically,” Ben says and there’s a wide, wicked grin splitting his face that little Ben used to wear to while terrorizing 3PO, Chewie, Luke, and even ( _most of all_ ) Han himself with whatever new trick he’d recently concocted. “Technically, since I found it, it’s _my_ console.”

“You don’t even—”

“Hey, how much long—Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The voice that breaks into their exchange is soft and curious and decidedly _female_ . Han’s pauses mid-word to watch as Ben’s whole body stiffens before his son lurches to sit up. Ben turns his head to the right to look at whoever has spoken. The sharp bob of his son’s Adam’s apple is clearly visible as is the little tick of muscle in his jaw but, to Han’s endless amazement, there aren’t any of the typical Ben emotions visible.

“It’s just my dad,” he says a bit reluctantly, fingers waving restlessly toward Han’s holographic image.

“Your dad?” The lilt of her voice is kind of sweet, Han thinks, and her accent reminds him of Obi-Wan. He’s intensely curious to see what she looks like although he doubts Ben will bother to make introductions. She hasn’t even flickered into the edges of their transmission. And Ben hasn’t ever introduced anyone to him and Leia. Thus far, Han has believed that Ben just hasn’t let go of that part of his Jedi training. Chewie certainly hadn’t mentioned anybody special hanging around. “That’s _the_ Han Solo?”

At that Han laughs out loud. Since when has he been _‘the’_ anything? This girl says his name like he’s a celebrity on the holonet. The reminder of his presence snaps Ben’s head back around immediately. He glowers at his father’s smiling image.

“Yeah, that’s the old man,” he says. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Hey!” Han protests.

As expected, Ben doesn’t offer to make any introductions. He simply turns back to face Han and is all business in the blink of an eye.

“I’m headed to Takodana,” Ben announces and his face is guarded, all emotion withdrawn from his expression in a way that puts Han on edge. “We’ve found BB-8—Poe’s droid—and it says it’s carrying a message for Mom. It says—”

Ben stops and swallows hard; eyes flicking over to where Han thinks this mystery girl is standing, then steels himself to continue. What he says explains all the effort needed immediately:

“It says it’s carrying a map to Skywalker.” It impressive some of the things Han never realized Ben had inherited from Leia. This poker-face he wears can only have come from the woman who, being captured amidst a fleet of fleeing rebel ships, looked Darth Vader straight in the face and _lied_ .

With a telling nonchalance Ben adds, “Can you get it on a clean ship? We need to scrub the Falcon before it can go anywhere else.”

_Shit._

Han knew the Resistance was looking for Luke. The First Order was gaining ground across the system and Snoke was doing something that had Leia on edge. Their only hope was the Jedi and the last Jedi left was Luke.

But Leia hadn’t meant to involve Ben at all. It was why she’s asked Han to find anything to keep them away from D’Qar for as long as he could. Ben’s little Rathtar adventure had been a happy coincidence. Except that it had landed him right in the middle of everything.

_Shit._

“I’ll meet you there,” Han says immediately. “I’ll take the droid.”

Ben nods, everything about him still closed off and distant. “We’re less than a parsec out. I’ll—”

“What about Finn?” the girl interrupts again—finally.

It’s fascinating to watch the way the muscle just beneath Ben’s left eye jumps; the way all of his attention shifts like the Death Star turning all at once to focus on a single point. Han wonders if his son even knows what that looks like from the outside. A little displeased frown creases Ben’s brow and it’s like looking into a mirror thirty-something years ago. Then Ben opens his mouth and reminds the world that he has none of his father’s smoothness and all of his uncle’s conspicuous jealousy and youthful petulance.

“What about him? Big Deal can take care of himself.”

Ben crosses his arms, jaw and shoulders tensing stubbornly, face turned away from both Han and his companion. Then, finally, the girl appears within range of the holo.

She’s a small, skinny, scrap of a thing dressed like a desert rat if ever Han has seen one. Her clothes are the light layers favored on sandy planets and everything about the way she holds herself screams of toughness. Still, she’s younger than he expected as she gets in his son’s space and argues that he should at least help this Finn character get back to the Resistance too. Han takes the time being ignored to study her pixie face and rates her as quite pretty under the all the dirt and staunch utilitarianism.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take Ben long to give in and Han can’t even fault the kid because he’d have done the same for a pretty face and feisty attitude way back when. Ben agrees to help this Finn figure something out when they land before remembering his father is still in holo-limbo.

“We’re entering Takodana’s atmosphere,” Ben advises. “We’ll meet you in the castle.”

He glances up at the girl standing at his shoulder then jerks his chin in the Han’s direction, asking, “Shut that off will you?”

Han waits for the commline to go dead because, if no one bothered to make too many unnecessary changes on the Falcon, she’ll have to lean closer in order to turn it off and he’ll be able see her more clearly for a few moments. Leia will have questions, of course, and he’ll need to be able to answer them.

The girl doesn’t move. She seems rooted, eyes wide as she stares out of the ship at something on the horizon. Her hand falls softly to grip the back of Ben’s pilot seat as, oblivious, the younger Solo tinkers with the Falcon’s controls. When Ben leans back so that his shoulder brushes her fingers, she slips into the co-pilot’s seat and half of her disappears from Han’s artificially narrowed field of vision.

“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy,” she whispers still awed by the lush forests of Takodana.

There’s a note of innocence in her voice that plucks at Han’s heart as he realizes this girl has probably never been offworld. Ben’s eyes dart over to her again and linger with an intensity that would be awkward if the girl were to notice.

It doesn’t matter whether Ben knows what it looks like from the outside—it’s obvious the kid doesn’t understand what the hell is happening on the inside either. When Ben finally drags his gaze away, he meets his father’s eyes, reaches over and shuts the commlink off without a word.

* * *

Maz knows the moment Ben Solo sets foot in her castle. She’s lived for over a millennia and there have been few with a presence in the Force quite like the young Solo’s. It’s a testament to the strength of it that she can still feel him, even now, just from the breadth of the void he creates around him. While she has never been comfortable with the feeling of what he’s done to himself, it’s as distinct as he’d felt the first time his little feet had scampered across the worn stones underfoot.

He’d been a gorgeous little human child, all bouncing black curls, eyes big enough in his head to rival Maz’s, and a wide bright smile radiating hero’s worship for the father who didn’t know half enough to be a proper parent. Now he’s grown into his features, handsomer even than his father had been and built broad, tall and lean like he’s trying to rival a Wookiee, but there’s no innocence left in him. He’s been touched by darkness too intimately, too deeply, and it’s heartbreaking to see what it’s wrought. A boy as incandescent as Ben Solo had once been shouldn’t be the empty space of a man that he has become.

For all that he looks like Han, he has to be treated very differently so Maz, instead of screaming his name across the room like she’s apt to do, slips up behind him instead. He has company this time but it’s not his usual chaperone—she’ll have to find Chewbacca some time later. She takes a moment to observe his companions without their notice.

First, there’s the droid—small, round, orange and white, and sticking around Ben’s legs like a needy pet. There’s been buzz about the First Order looking for a droid and it would a surprise to absolutely no one—or at least not to Maz—that Leia Organa and Han Solo’s son would end up tangled in that web. A quick glance around the room divulges at least one informant each for both the Resistance and the First Order lounging deceptively at various points. This is probably going to get messy.

The second companion—a young man, dark skinned and skittish—asks a question that has Ben, in profile, raising a half-mocking eyebrow and retorting, “Did you just call me ‘Solo’?”

The other man verbally backpedals, visibly intimidated despite Ben’s relaxed posture, thereby giving away some amount trained perception of threats no matter how veiled. Although Ben’s size is intimidating, he’s good at pretending he isn’t dangerous. Either Han taught him or it runs in the Jedi blood but it’s one thing that works in their favor given their usual business.

“Listen, _Big Deal_ ,” Ben murmurs and there’s definitely a note of derision there regardless of the quiet tone. “We’re going to handle this droid situation then we’ll figure something out for you. You’ve got options here. I suggest you thank _her_ for getting you this far before she figures out the truth.”

With that, Ben shoulders past Big Deal to fall back into step with droid. He glances to his right where the third companion stands, looking around curiously but with enough common sense not to blatantly stare like it’s her first time in a cantina. Maz is almost taken aback by the girl, her presence in the Force a warmth unkindled but full of potential. She’s very young, but too old by far to be a padawan—if those were even to exist still—and Ben Solo hasn’t been a Jedi in years.

When Maz takes a few steps forward toward Ben, she finds herself in a strange twilight of the Force—there’s the girl’s warmth on one side and the gaping void that is Ben Solo on the other. It’s what’s happening where their edges meet that is the most interesting. Whoever this girl is, she almost seems to be _bleeding_ into the space around Ben.

Maz clears her throat.

“Young Solo.”

His father would have tripped from startling so hard but the son keeps his feet—barely. He spins on his heel to face her and the effort it takes him not to scowl at her is amusing. At least he hasn’t forgotten his manners even if it’s been quite a while since his last visit.

“Maz,” he drawls. And before she can ask adds, “Your boyfriend’s fixing the Falcon. He’ll be in when he’s done.”

“I’ve missed that Wookiee. But you’re not here to be social. Come, sit,” she directs them all to a table in the back and waves over some food, “Explain.”

They settle in, his companions busy examining the culinary offerings while he takes the seat across from her and eats nothing. He’s leaner than he was the last time he visited—paler too—and his eyes are as dead as the Force feels around him.

“The droid needs to get to my mother,” he says. His hands are playing with the glass in front of him, eyes flickering over the food. “The Old Man is on the way here to collect it.”

“Why not take it to her yourself?” she asks shrewdly.

Ben stills, fingers freezing in place on the rim of the glass, eyes settling on the girl’s hand as she plucks a decorated fruit off one of the plates and lifts it to her face. He keeps his gaze intent on her as she takes her first bite and, for the first time in too long, the blank veil over his eyes ripples as the girl’s face morphs through a series of reactions to what Maz assumes is new cuisine. Then, the girl—Rey from Nowhere, she’d said—turns to meet Ben’s eyes.

Rey’s smile turns brittle across her lips but there’s no animosity, only confusion. Without looking away, Ben takes a deep breath fit for a man drowning. Rey’s eyelids flutter. Whatever changes for Ben is evident only in the tiny shifts in his posture. Finally, he looks back at Maz and answers: “It’s about Skywalker.”

“Ah,” Maz measures her next words carefully, marvelling that this young man of all the men she’s known in her long life causes her to tread the most carefully with her words. “You’ve been avoiding that for a long time, Ben.”

Even with all the care she takes, he withdraws.

“I’d rather not,” he says. She would pursue it but a hand lands heavy on Ben’s shoulder interrupting them.

“Hey Maz,” Han greets. He looks down at the top of his son’s head. “Ben.”

Ben doesn’t bother to turn around, just mumbles, “Dad.”

To Ben’s right Rey lights up. Finn, to Ben’s left, looks up curiously. Han surveys the table from his vantage point behind Ben and the resemblance between father and son is on stark display.

“So these are our fugitives,” Han says eyeing first BB-8, then Finn, then Rey.

Ben makes short introductions. It appears the Solos have already discussed a plan. Han turns to Maz to ask for help chartering a new ship. Maz wants to decline simply because she can tell that, even if his father isn’t Force sensitive enough to see it, Ben Solo is deteriorating. She can be freer with the father, at least.

“Han, this,” she gestures to Ben, “can’t go on. You’ve both been running away from this for too long.”

Hand tightening on his son’s shoulder, Han replies, “It is what it is, Maz. _The Resistance_ needs Luke.”

“Please,” Finn interjects, “we came here for your help.”

“You can’t escape this fight. Neither of you,” Maz insists.

“What fight?” Rey asks.

“The only fight: against the dark side. Through the ages, I've seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow is spreading across the galaxy. We must face them. Fight them. _All of us._ ” She gives both Solos a significant look as her speech concludes hoping to have impressed even a little bit of her concern into their stubborn heads.

Surprisingly, it’s Finn who erupts: “There is no fight against the First Order! Not one we can win. Look around. There's no chance we haven't been recognized already. I bet you the First Order is on their way right—”

Huh, she hadn’t seen this one coming. She knew something was off but this is interesting. Moving in for a closer look, Maz all but crawls over the table. She adjusts her goggles, switching rapidly between lenses to get to the truth of this scared young man. Peering at him, she ignores his befuddled verbal flailing and concludes that it would be lovely if he were braver.

“If you live long enough you see the same eyes in different people,” she tells the table. “I'm looking at the eyes of a man who wants to run.”

That puts some steel in him.

“You don't know a thing about me,” he retorts. “Where I'm from; what I've seen.”

Maz thinks she has a pretty good idea but doesn’t fight him. He’s used most of his courage up already and he’s gotten caught up in something much bigger than any living thing in the galaxy.

“You don't know the First Order like I do,” he admits. “They'll slaughter us. We _all_ need to run.”

He’s just a child. Glancing from Ben’s frown to Rey’s stunned face, Maz realizes all over again that they’re all just children. She retreats, settles back into her seat and points at two pirates sitting at a corner window past Finn’s shoulder. They’re decent, for pirates. They won’t sell him off or kill him if he works hard and they’ll honour their word.

“You see those two? They'll trade work for transportation to the Outer Rim. There, you can disappear,” she offers.

The young man looks behind him, considers, and rises from his seat.

“Finn!” Rey objects in disbelief.

He turns back around and makes a desperate appeal to her, “Come with me.”

Between them, Ben Solo tenses.

“What about BB-8?” Rey counters. “We're not done yet. We have to get him back to _your_ base.”

He struggles but, in the end, Finn’s flight instinct wins and he whispers, “I can’t.”

Before he moves away, he turns back to Ben and offers the weapon he’s been carrying since they entered. Ben waves it away with a simple, “Keep it.”

Less than half a second after Finn leaves, Rey jolts up to follow him. Han slots himself into the boy’s vacated seat and Maz leans back to study the younger Solo.

“So,” she asks, “who’s the girl?”

Ben’s eyes are following the two who have walked toward the pirates, his jaw muscles clenched tight.

“No one.” His tone of disregard is an almost laughable counterpoint to the intensity of his stare. “Just a scavenger from Jakku.”

Over by the pirates, Finn and Rey share a hug and part ways. Maz and Han exchange a look as Ben bites his bottom lip. Then he frowns and looks around wildly.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Han asks.

Ben doesn’t answer. He get to his feet, chair scraping on the stones with the speed at which he rises, and he starts in the direction of Rey. Maz sees the girl moving tentatively toward the stairs leading down to her storage rooms. Ben’s long stride eats up the distance and then he disappears down the dark stairwell behind Rey.

Maz turns back to face an equally surprised Han. _How very, very interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose a planet at random that was in the vicinity of Yavin IV for Luke's original Jedi temple location.
> 
> Regarding **parsecs** \-- I'm aware that it's a unit of distance but in TFA, the use sounds distinctly like it's a measurement of time because you can't cut the distance between two points down from 12 to 14 parsecs without some serious time/space contortion. As such, I've opted to use it in a sentence that's, I hope, appropriately vague.
> 
> Finally, I'm on [tumblr](http://bensolos-bigdoeeyes.tumblr.com/) if you want to scream about TLJ and see excessive reblogs of Adam's pretty fucking face.


	3. feel my instincts here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the flu is killing me. thanks for your patience. this chapter is basically unbeta'd. i'll come back and edit it once the effects of the drugs wear off.

BB-8 can’t hear whatever it is that draws Rey’s attention as Finn walks away. The little droid isn’t completely convinced that she isn’t having a bit of breakdown. It hasn’t spent that much time with Rey but it’s adept at reading human behaviour and it can tell that separation is an issue for it’s new favourite human. Poe will always been BB-8’s absolute favourite human but Rey is coming in a close third.

Rolling along concernedly behind her as she ventures into the depths of Maz Kanata’s labyrinthine castle, BB-8 gets no warning as its second favourite human almost punts it down the corridor. Ben, untangling his legs and regaining his footing in a tricky dance that takes him over BB-8’s head and to the bottom of the stairs, looks as distant and distracted as Rey.

“Sorry, BB,” he apologises. He peers down the long, dimly lit corridor intently then asks: “Are you hearing anything right now?”

BB-8 beeps in the negative.

Ben frowns, perturbed, then starts stalking away in the direction Rey went. The droid follows, intensely curious about the inaudible mystery noise both Ben and Rey seem to be hearing. As it chases after him, BB-8 notices that Ben’s usual practiced laziness of stride has vanished and left in its place a tautness that drags his back and shoulders upward like they’re tied in string. His arms are held away from his torso, his posture almost menacing, and his height is somehow more evident than less despite the downward tilt of his head. The effect is entirely awkward on so tall a man—the hunching of shoulders too broad—and it all screams of an unconscious alertness to some unseen danger. BB-8 readies its taser just in case.

At the far end of the corridor, Ben stops walking and turns toward the door to his left. It’s open and Rey is standing there, a few streaks of dusty sunlight streaming through a high window casting an angelic glow around her slight frame. She makes a pretty picture, BB-8 decides, like art.

She isn’t static though, she alive and moving, slowly kneeling to open the weathered trunk in front of her. There’s a collection of nick-nacks stored within but one thing stands out, polished and gleaming brightly. Rey’s hand closes around it and Ben sucks in a sharp breath beside the droid.

“Don’t—” Ben begins breaking the spell of silence cast over them but stops just as suddenly.

Rey turns toward the sound of Ben’s voice, eyes glazed and expression fearful as she stands and faces him, lightsaber still held tightly in one hand. BB-8 watches Ben take a cautious step forward into the light, right hand halfway stretched out in mimicry of the motion used to comfort a scared animal, pressing his lips together as he works to find words.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers and Rey takes a deep, shuddering breath in response. “I feel it too.”

Rey gasps as though emerging from underwater. “You’re— How are you—? Get _out_ of my head!”

Her expression is fierce. Ben grimaces but moves ever closer.

“I can’t. I’m not doing—I’m not doing this.” He gestures toward the lightsaber she’s clutching. In the tone of an clarification he says, “That lightsaber. It belongs to me.”

“What’s happening?” Rey asks desperately, voice lost, eyes shifting, body seemingly held in place by some invisible power. Tears trail down her face and though BB-8 beeps in concern the sound goes ignored by the humans. They are too engrossed in whatever is happening between them.

“I think—.” Ben offers slowly, “I think you’re Force sensitive.”

“The Force?” Rey echoes, her voice somewhere between confused and awed.

Ben nods. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tells her: “You’ll need a teacher.”

Abruptly she thrusts the lightsaber at Ben. “I don’t want anything to do with this,” she tells him through her tears. “I’m never touching this thing again.”

Ben appears equally reluctant to touch the offensive object but nods solemnly. He reaches for the lightsaber. His hand is big enough to engulf most of the hilt so the tips of his fingers touch Rey’s as he encloses the proffered half of the weapon in his grip. BB-8 observes them closely as they make this exchange.

Except that the exchange never actually happens.

The droid watches as the two humans look up simultaneously and freeze in place. They stay there—eyes fixed on each other, hands barely touching, neither really seeming to breathe—until they both let go at exactly the same moment.

Rey stumbles backward until her legs connect with another closed trunk and she falls to sit on it, face tear streaked and eyes wide. Ben staggers backward in the opposite direction until he’s braced against the wall. Light glints on the trail of a single tear down his left cheek. He raises a trembling hand and runs it through his hair.

The lightsaber rolls unminded to a stop at the base of the open trunk.

“ _You_ ,” Ben breathes.

The sound of his voice makes Rey blink and rapidly reanimate. She shoots to her feet, hand over her mouth as she shakes her head and stares with what looks like panic at Ben. Then she breaks into a run out of the room, past Ben’s unmoving form, and into the hallway. BB-8 wants to follow her but Ben moves first.

* * *

 

Maz remembers the last time she saw Luke Skywalker. The last Jedi had looked worn and _old_ . She’d met him as a hale and hearty young man when he crisscrossed the galaxy in his efforts to help his sister restore political order to the systems. The day he’d arrived to entrust the Skywalker legacy to her keeping, Luke Skywalker had become an old man.

Though he gave no reasons for his decision, Maz had heard the rumours about what happened to his temple. More telling even than those, however, was the heavy weight of guilt he wore like a cloak around his shoulders. It took almost another year before Ben Solo followed his father into Maz’s castle for the first time in nearly two decades and suddenly Maz understood more. Not all of it, but _more._

The picture these two disparate pieces painted was a miserable one indeed. If Maz were a more emotional creature, she might have been inclined to weep for the quiet horror that hid in the great void of Ben Solo’s absence from the Force.

She can hear them talking as she totters down the stairs; sees the light streaming out of exactly the door she expected. There’s a hesitance in their speech, as though each is afraid of the other, and Maz has lived quite long enough to understand that for what it is. When everything goes silent, Maz feels a pulse in the Force—feels a flash of Ben’s Force signature suddenly bright and hot and crackling before it disappears again—and speeds up her gait.

Rey—lost, strong, brittle thing that she is—is crying when they collide.

“I shouldn’t have gone in there,” she confesses immediately. Behind her, Ben comes to a halt and watches them with narrowed eyes. Maz knows he thinks this hides his vulnerability but the boy’s face has ever been an open book. His features betray his fear.

“That lightsaber was Luke's,” Maz reveals, “and his father's before him. And now, it calls to _you_.”

“No,” the girl replies. In the background, Ben flinches. “No, I have to get back to Jakku.”

As kindly as she can manage, Maz extends her hand to take Rey’s. She looks deep into the girl’s eyes and see, behind all the confusion and terror, the truth of the child’s sad, solitary life.

“Dear child, I see your eyes. You already know the truth.” Ben bites his lip, eyes closing as though he knows what Maz is about to say and knows how much it will hurt. “Whoever you're waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back. But…”

Now she has both their attention. _Good._ “There's someone who still could.”

Unprompted, Rey instantaneously glances over her shoulder to Ben. Maz levels a significant look at the young man too, but he’s not paying any mind to the wizened little humanoid. He bites his bottom lip, eyes shifting from Rey to the stairs behind her then back again. Finally he makes his move with a resigned shake of his head. He doesn’t look back as he takes the stairs up to the dining hall two at a time.

Gently so that she doesn’t startle, Maz touches Rey’s shoulder to regain her focus.

“The belonging you seek is not behind you,” Maz advises kindly, “It is ahead. I am no Jedi, but I know the Force. It moves through and surrounds every living thing. Close your eyes. Feel it: the light. It's always been there. It will guide you. The saber. Take it.”

There’s a moment of hesitation and Maz can tell how conflicted Rey is before that entrenched sense of self-preservation wins out. Stepping around the bespectacled proprietress, Rey declares: “I don't want any part of this.”

Sighing deeply, Maz makes her way to the open door and picks the discarded lightsaber up off the floor. If only it were as simple as wanting to partake or not.

* * *

 

Upstairs, Ben almost bowls over Han as he heads for the door. Apart from the obvious distraction, he’s got an inscrutable look on his face that announces—to Han at least—that there’s a real problem. _Where’s Leia when you need her?_

“Whoa there, kid!” Han exclaims as he throws his hands up to prevent an inevitable collision. They land on Ben’s biceps and it occurs to Han once more that his son is taller than him. That fact always hits him at the oddest of times and he thinks it has to do with the fact that he missed the majority of Ben’s physical growth. Being fair and honest, he can only attribute half of that to Ben’s time with Luke. This is exactly why Han doesn’t like being fair and honest; the truth is like a punch in the gut he would rather avoid.

“What’s wrong?”

Ben blinks as though waking from a stupor. It’s not an uncommon look on him—Han had grown accustomed to the way Ben’s attention would fade from the immediate and focus on something only he could see. When Ben had been younger, these episodes could last anywhere from a few seconds to whole hours. And nothing good ever came of it—Ben was always worse for the wear afterward and far angrier. Luke had once told Han he sensed the darkness in Ben peaking during these times.

What worries Han now is the fact that Ben hadn’t had an episode like this since returning from Luke’s temple. Not since he’d turned away from the Light and the Dark equally. He’d cut himself off from the Force entirely and Leia said it had been like watching someone cut off their own limbs. All Han had seen was the shadow of his son in a man shuddering for breath and clinging to Leia like a lifeline.

“Ben?” Han tries again, “Ben, answer me!”

“Air,” Ben rasps out, “I need air.”

“Ok,” Han acknowledges as he starts toward the door. “Ok, let’s get you outside.”

Under the clear blue of Takodana’s sky, Han settles Ben on a parapet and waits for his breathing to calm. The terrace they’ve found is blessedly unoccupied—just the two of them, fresh air, and the horizon. Han considers radioing Chewie on the Falcon but decides against it. As he leans against the stone beside Ben, Han catches a glimpse of a slim figure in pale clothes dart into the woods below, BB-8 hot on her tail.

Ben has his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, hair falling forward over his fingers and forehead. After a long silence, he drags his palms down over his mouth then admits, “It’s Rey.”

 _Could’ve told you that_ , Han thinks.

“She’s strong with the Force. Untrained, but stronger than she knows.” _Ok, didn’t see that one coming._

“She cut through all of my barriers like butter,” Ben tells him. “I don’t know how she did it but she just reached out and... _grabbed_ me.”

His son makes a gesture above his heart like yanking on a chain. Han can’t begin to make sense of it because he’s never been able to comprehend this Force mumbo-jumbo even at his most open-minded. He’s not beyond admitting he’s clueless about how the Force works. But whatever Rey’s done to his son, it’s unsettled Ben deeply.

“I thought you cut yourself off from all that,” Han ventures tentatively, “I watched you do it.”

Head bowed, Ben keeps his gaze on his hands as they clench to fists and then open again, back and forth with no discernible rhythm. It looks like he’s feeling for something that isn’t there.

“I did.” Ben says. He tracks a rough hand through his hair and swallows before repeating, “I did.”

“So then how—?”

“I don’t know!” Ben shouts. He seems to jar even himself with the violence and volume of his frustration. For an instant Han sees beyond the shaking young man sitting in front of him to a little boy no higher than his hip on the verge of tears, cheeks reddened, lips quivering.

“I don’t how she’s doing any of this,” Ben continues, “ _Snoke_ can’t get through to me but this... _scavenger_ just—I don’t understand. She shouldn’t be able to do this. _No one_ should be able to do this.”

And there is the _fear_ . Fear in this man’s eyes as there had been in that little boy’s. Han had failed his only child once; he will not do so again.

A deep breath is all the fortification Han’s going to get out of the universe right now so he takes it then says, “Alright, kid, listen up.”

He waits until Ben looks up at him before insisting as much to himself as to his son, “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out, okay? Rey—she isn’t a bad kid. I already like her and I’ve barely known her an hour. And you said she’s untrained. Maker knows nothing and nobody pays attention to Jakku, even the Jedi and definitely not the First Order. She’s probably been sitting in that junkyard wasting away. So let’s go see your mother and she can help make sense of whatever this is.”

Han has moved from where he was standing and now crouches before his son. He extends his hand and covers Ben’s clasped hands with his own. He can feels the tremors Ben is trying to hide by interlocking his fingers.

“I’m here for you, son.”

“Dad—”

Whatever Ben was going to say is interrupted by the shrill beeping of comms on both their belts. It’s a warning from the Resistance, only for use in the direst emergencies, and both of them scramble for the message. It’s just two words in Aurebesh: LOOK UP.

Look up? Han shakes his comm to see if it’s broken. _What kind of ridiculous—?_

“No,” Ben breathes and there’s such horror in his voice that Han’s head jerks up immediately. Ben is looking up.

In the clear blue sky above, five points of red light collide with planets unseen. The explosions—bursts of angry orange-red—mar the bright sky like imitations of bloodstains.

Finn barrels through the door behind them along with half the crowd from inside the bar. He comes to a stop between father and son.

“It was the Republic,” he exclaims. “The First Order—they’ve done it.”

“Done that? How?”

“The weapon,” Ben murmurs quietly, mostly talking to himself. “I sent Mom some intel from a spy in the Outer Rim a little while ago. They finished building it?”

“Mostly,” Finn confirms. “It’s functional now even if it isn’t complete.”

“That was the Hosnian system then,” Ben concludes. “You said they were targeting the Republic.”

“Yeah, it’s that and then wherever the Resistance is headquartered.”

“They can’t know that,” Han interjects. It’s irrational but Leia is in danger so Han doesn’t really care if he’s being too hostile—he grabs Finn by his jacket collar and hauls him close. “They _don’t_ know that. Right?”

“I—I don’t think so,” Finn stutters. “I—I think we have bigger problems.”

Finn starts jerking his chin at something over Han’s shoulder. Han drops the younger man and, indeed, First Order TIE fighters are approaching rapidly across the bay.

_This day just keeps getting better._

Then it occurs to Finn to ask, “Where’s Rey?”

The first shot blows out the foundations of a tower on the opposite end of the castle but the resulting debris rains down over them in dangerous chunks. Everyone scatters and the three men find themselves in a rush toward the ground level.

“Solo!” Finn hollers even as they press out onto the flagstones where Stormtroopers are disembarking to engage. Han doesn’t know if he’s talking to him or Ben. “Solo! Where’s Rey?”

Ben has his blaster out already, back against a wall, and Han sees Chewie coming from the edge of the woods toward them, bowcaster firing. They can survive this. Han ducks for cover and readies his own blaster. He can see Ben and Finn from here, can hear them in snippets over the explosions.

“She’s in the woods!” Han screams at them. “Ran in there with BB-8!”

Ben acknowledges this with a nod of his head.

“I’ll go!” he shouts at Finn. Ben spins, shoots an oncoming Stormtrooper in the chest, and sprints toward the cover of the trees.

Finn looks lost, torn between following Ben or hiding. Han makes a break for Ben’s vacated cover. He throws himself into place just as a blaster bolt whizzes by and takes out a good chunk of rock a few feet behind where his head had just been.

“You gotta fight if you wanna live, kiddo,” Han points out, trying and failing to measure his sarcasm. “Where’s that blaster of yours?”

Finn looks around confused. The battle rages around them and Han isn’t surprised the kid is a mess. “Inside, I think.”

“Kriff.”

“Here!” Maz shouts, pushing a familiar lightsaber hilt at Finn’s face. “Take it!”

“Where’d you get that?” Han shouts over the din.

“A good question for another time!” Maz retorts. “Now, fight these beasts! Your son can look after himself and the girl!”

She disappears into the fray and Finn, emboldened by the glowing blue of the Skywalker saber, stands to face the enemy. Chewie arrives at Han’s side a moment after.

“Long time no see,” Han quips as he takes out a trooper. Chewie roars a sarcastic response and takes out three in one shot.

“Yeah, yeah. He just—” The sentence dies on Han’s tongue. There in the sky descends a black Upsilon class shuttle, distinct for the damage it leaves in its wake.

_The Knights of Ren._


End file.
